Skies Are Gray
by Jade Eclipse
Summary: A dance, a smile, a walk through the park, and a day that never was. WesleyFred


Skies Are Gray

Summary: A dance, a smile, a walk through the park, and a day that never was. WesleyFred.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, no infringement.

This one really speaks for itself. I'm working on some much longer stories, but since I'm going away for a while I thought I'd post something in the meantime. Unfortunately, fanfiction refused to allow me to post, so this has been sitting around for _weeks_.

I'm not big into the romantic scene, but I thought these two really got gypped when Illyria arrived practically two seconds after they finally got together. And given all those years, they earned something. But it's still not as sappy as it seems at first, because sappy is… bad. I can't pull off sappy. I'm not too fond of this story, but I did need something to write before I left… sigh. Hopefully it's worth the short read, and I promise the next story I post will be longer and much, much better.

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"C'mon, Wes, _relax_ a little!" Fred encouraged. "It's such a nice day!" She held her arms up and tilted her head back towards the sun, a big smile on her face. Wesley would have been content to just watch her in the sunlight, happy and carefree. The light caught all the highlights in her brown hair and her delight accentuated all the warmth in her eyes. He found her more beautiful than ever. She looked over at him and then came to his side, linking her arm through his and tugging him along the stone path that coiled its way around the park. "We've been working so hard, I think we deserve a day to unwind. Stop thinking about work and enjoy the sunshine."

"I wasn't thinking about work," Wesley said. "Though I do admit I'd almost forgotten how to have a nice day." The park was pretty crowded, filled with other people there to soak up the sunshine. A group of kids were playing a game of ball in a grassy field on the right side of the path, shouting and laughing. Other people were walking their dogs or riding on bikes, ignoring the couple on the path entirely. It was the perfect day for such an outing.

"Well," Fred replied, snuggling closer to him, "we'll just have to remind you, won't we? Y'know, it's probably a good thing for you to get out every once in a while. You're actually looking kinda pale."

"A side-affect of working with Angel, no doubt. We start to keep his hours."

She scrunched up her nose. "Yeah. The whole creature of the night thing works for him, but not for us. We don't burn up in the daytime. We shoulda done this years ago."

"What, go to the park?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder, sliding her hand down his arm and entwining their fingers. She felt very warm, pressed up against him, and he squeezed her hand. He would have been comfortable staying just like that for the rest of the day, if not for the rest of his life. "Well," she said with a content sigh. "That too. Oh, look! Ice cream. Do you want some?"

"No, no, go ahead. I'm not hungry." She grinned, pulled her hand from his, and raced ahead to the little ice cream stand with childish glee. She was so innocent sometimes. Looking at her, there was no reason to believe that she knew and worked with creatures that the rest of the world would have run away from screaming. There was strength in her that wasn't readily apparent, but this was the woman who had endured five years in the Pylean hell dimension, who had endured over a week with the world against her during Jasmine's reign, who had bravely stood by in spite of everything.

She paid the man at the stand for her ice cream cone and came back to him, placing her hand back in his and returning the warmth he had missed even for the brief time it was absent. "I don't usually like places like this," she told him. "Too open, and too many people. I'm still more used to caves, y'know? But this is nice. You sure you don't want an ice cream?"

"I'm sure, Fred. Thank you."

She bobbed her head. "Do you wonder what they're doing without us?"

"I'm sure they don't know what to do with themselves," Wesley said, and was rewarded with a giggle.

"Two department managers did just take off in the middle of the day. If the world ends, they can't blame us. We earned a vacation." She set her jaw determinedly and then laughed again. He studied her face, observing even the most miniscule detail- the way the wind brushed back her hair, the way her lips moved when she spoke, the glow in her eyes. Warm, he thought, she was very warm. Everything about her exuded an all-encompassing tenderness, indiscriminate and friendly. He had never met anyone like her; there would never be anyone like her ever again. She was unique; she was irreplaceable. He was terribly lucky to have her. He realized this every time he was close to her, but it never ceased to feel like a revelation.

"You're extraordinary," he said, not even thinking it before he spoke. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it, either. He would always cherish her. She was more dear to him than anything had ever been, and more precious than life itself. He didn't know what he had done right to deserve her, but he promised himself that he would make her happy and he would never forget exactly how wonderful she was.

She grinned up at him bashfully, shyly even, pleasantly surprised by the unexpected compliment. "Oh," she cooed. "I love you too, Wes." She swung their linked arms and beamed at him. Her ice cream was beginning to melt in the warm weather, but she wasn't paying any attention, absorbed just in being with him. Their relationship was still in the early stages, but given how long they had known each other it seemed much more mature than that.

They continued their conversation and their walk as she finished off the ice cream cone. She threw the napkin it had come with into a nearby wastebasket after wiping off her sticky hands. The sun was beginning to fade behind some clouds, turning the sky a dusky golden-gray. She tipped her head back and said, "Dance with me?"

"Now?" he asked, but his hands were already on her waist, and hers were wrapped about his shoulders. Their feet moved slowly, more rocking back and forth than dancing. The light from some nearby sign shone on her face, yellow and blue, casting a different shade across her suddenly, achingly unfamiliar face. He spun her around so that the light was behind her and didn't reflect on her features. "I missed you," he said. When he breathed in he could smell the aroma of her hair, the faint trace of perfume and the sterile smell of the chemicals from the science department.

"I'm right here. Come on, Wes, we don't have to talk about that, do we?" But the southern accent was starting to disappear. He let his arms drop back to his sides as his feet stopped moving automatically. She took a step back, recognizing the end to their impromptu waltz. "For once I think I'd like to see a happy ending," she said. "Did you notice how few of those there are now? We never get the fairytale. Sure, we can have monsters and brave heroes and, y'know, epic battles, but we never get the ever after, do we?"

"I always thought the happy endings were forced," Wesley replied. "What am I going to do without you?"

She shrugged her slender shoulders. "The right thing. You always do the right thing. Now, come on." She stepped back into his arms and pulled him back into their dance. "This is our day off." He allowed himself to continue the dance, but something had changed. He still felt the warmth, but now it felt artificial instead of comforting. When he looked at her, he saw ice instead of sunlight.

"I think…" he said, considering. "I think I'd best leave."

She nodded and met his eyes. "Aren't you gonna kiss me good-bye?"

Wesley started into wakefulness and found himself sitting at his desk, collapsed over an opened book. He was used to waking up like that, whenever he spent too long researching. As if to serve as a harsh reminder, the first word he encountered when he looked down at the book was the title of the article- Illyria. He exhaled slowly and leaned back in the chair. He hated these dreams more than anything. He reached for his bottle of scotch, grateful that at least this time the blue ex-god wasn't in sight. The nightmare, he had discovered, was less when he slept and more when he woke up.


End file.
